“All right, then!  They wuz tuk yisterday at noon.  There’s a man, a woman, four children!” [He tapped the tip of each finger of his left hand once with the back of the book, and the thumb twice, looking Agnes very convincingly in the face all the while, as though to make her thoroughly understand, without putting him to the bother of a second statement.] “Six—­they wuz tuk at noon yisterday.  Two dead this mornin’.  Four more oughten be dead by—­let’s see—­why, time’s up now! t’houten be dead now!  By—­how’s that?  You aint foolin’, hey?  Big fine fur foolin’ the wagon man, you know.  Now say, if any on ’em’s near gone it’ll do, you know.  Save me bother, an’ you too, don’t you see?  Ef they’re near gone, ’nuff not ter kick nor holler wen we puts ’em in, it’ll do, ‘cause then they can’t git better, you know, an’ they’re outen their misery sooner.”

The insinuating leer with which the wretch ended this speech caused Miss Arnold’s blood to run cold.

“You brute! you fiend! ghoul! or whatever kind of demon you call yourself, begone! in the name of Heaven, begone!” exclaimed the heroic girl, her eyes flashing fire, and her whole frame trembling with disgust and horror.

Her demeanor cowed the fellow, and he actually cringed as he backed out at the door.  But on the sidewalk he seemed to recover his coolness, or at least he assumed to, for stepping in again, he exclaimed: 

“Mind, I’ll be round in the mornin’, and I don’t want no gum games!  I’ve got too much to do on my hands now.”

Agnes paid no heed to him at all, but hastening back to her patients, she recommenced her nursing care of them.

There was no fire, and in fact none was needed, except for cooking and preparing the one or two simple remedies which Agnes used in connection with the treatment of the sick victims, and which she felt assured would not interfere with the medicine they were taking.

In truth, during the whole epidemic, it seemed as though mere medicine was of no avail whatever, and that really the methods and means used by the natives, independent of the doctors, did all the good that was done.

First, she got out of the store some mackerel and bound them, just as they came out of the barrel, brine and all, to the soles of the feet of both the mother and children.

This simple remedy acted like a charm, for in about three hours the fever began to break.  Agnes put on fresh mackerel as before, removing the first ones, which, startling as it may seem, were perfectly putrid, though reeking with the strong salt brine when she applied them.

By nine o’clock that night the noble young woman had the inexpressible delight of seeing her poor patients so far changed for the better as to be completely out of danger.

On the next morning, true to his promise, the dead-wagon man came around.  He was one of those in-bred wicked spirits which take delight in hating everything and everybody good and beautiful; just as the Greek peasant hated Aristides, and voted for his banishment, because he was surnamed the “good.”  This fellow already hated Agnes, and his ugly face was contorted with a hideous grin, as he thrust himself in at the store door and exclaimed: